Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Falling (II)

[ 28] Nymaya: Falling (II)
Mon Aug 21 20:00:28 2017
To: All Ashtiel ( Necrucifer Imm Cayenna ) Eclipse
Necrucifer lets men chose and create their own destiny, without limits.

The temperature dropped steadily as the shadows stretched across the ground - as she stood in reverent silence.  Tension breathed through her limbs, adrenaline sped her pulse and she felt the darkness stir inside. 

Like a beast prowling the shadows, stirring from an uneasy rest.  Its eyes were blood-red with pupils as black as pitch and as it stretched, fangs glimmered pale white in the dark before it disappeared.

She could feel it inside, the awareness, and there was no fear.  Her eyes closed as the world darkened, the shadows rushing over her as the red moon flashed bloody and the black moon ate both the white and then, the sun.  She spread her arms, tilted her head back and let herself fall.

The hellish air rushed past her and she opened her eyes, her hair a silver aura around her, to behold the end and the beginning.

I submit.   She breathed and the blue of her eyes disappeared beneath extinguishing black.

An eruption of acidic agony wracked her lithe frame and though she ground out a cry, she held nothing back from the shadows ripping through her.  They took everything offered - no part of her was spared and in the sound of the wind, a singular pleased whisper caught at her frayed awareness:

Come to join us, mother.

The form was insubstantial but through the euphoric pain she reached for it - for him.  A soft, sensual chuckle she recognized slithered over her and though she was met with eyes as black as the abyss, it was not her son that grasped her.

...borrowed time..

She felt the ground nearing, it was a visceral sense.  She was prepared to accept the inevitable - if Necrucifer wanted her life, He would have it - but even as she perceived the moment... 

...she woke.

Her inhale was sharp, her entire body jerking in the parlor chair as if she'd hit the ground and the sound of her book falling brought her senses fully into wakefulness.  The Sunset Dawn was not light reading and she gazed down on it, feeling a wave of old, familiar discontent settle even as she - yet again - wondered at the inevitability of her path. 

'Where does the road go from here.'

Saturday, August 19, 2017

The Vengeful Dead

[ 74] Nymaya: The Vengeful Dead
Sat Jul  8 15:18:08 2017
To: All Ashtiel ( RP Imm Cahlizna )
She sat and stared down at the broken blade in her grasp.

It shimmered with a mithril gleam, it had been gifted to her by the Shalonost upon finally earning the Kyorl sash.  It had been her first Kyorl blade and had meant so much.  It still resonated with her Song, though it was soft, discordant.  It was fitting but did it need to linger as such?

The blade could be mended, yes, but it would never sing with the full unbroken sound of the bladesong.  Would it be worth the effort?  A part of her disagreed, a tiny part of her hoped that the answer would be so simple.

She smiled with bitter wryness to consider it, but no, it had taken her years - nigh on two centuries - to earn the mere right to wear the sash.  After that, the merciless training had consisted of meditation, elemental focus and finally the Song itself.

What had been broken in her, she wasn't sure could ever be fixed.  Though no one had ever tried and she honestly wasn't sure where to begin.  There was no road, no previous path to walk.  There was no guide, no certainty in anything but the Haunt as it was.

'Despite Da'shal's wishes, as you know, the Song cannot be ripped out of an Elf, Songkeeper.'

Cruel, cruel irony in the sound of the voice that whispered back to her through the ages.  It reaffirmed her sense of fate in the path she had long been treading though.  She had condemned an elf to die for breaking his oath to the Kyorl but in all things now, she was paying the price his life demanded - by walking a similar, if darker, path.

She deserved her fate, a thousand times over, for taking the life of Lendach.

No.  She likely did not deserve to have her Song healed or made whole, much as it might give her peace.  So many years had passed now while it weighed on her and no answer had ever been forthcoming.  Lendach would apparently have his vengeance one way or another.

She ran her fingers down the broken blade, taking in its discordant hum, and then slipped it back into its sheath.  She could appreciate vengeance.


[ 92] Nymaya: Ruminations
Sun Jul  2 04:35:07 2017
To: Verminasia ( Blays Crelius Necrucifer Religion ) Imm Equinox Cayenna RP
She stood in the doorway of the parlor, arms crossed, shoulder against the door-frame and contemplated the man even then standing in the doorway of the foyer looking back at her.

Audacious, young and wholly dedicated to his assignment.

It was entirely strange, to be on the other end of the scale.  To need a personal guard, but there he was - unwilling to let the matter go.  It was a testament perhaps to how serious the matter was; Aspects of Sin, Nagash, the threat of the Warp, demons, Advisor and mother to a Queen.

And he, the unlikeliest candidate to be...what she was witnessing him become.

There was a sense of loss there.  Of watching youth and carefree enjoyment being ground by the demands of duty, but it was nothing she hadn't seen before.  It had been her job to grind the shiny off recruits, new Kyorl and Wali.  Create focused, dedicated weapons of men and women.

Looking at him, she saw the skill and the capacity to truly indulge the focus he was even then trying to put his mind to, but she was not yet certain if he truly understood the serious and disciplined path he was seeking to pursue.  Did a pirate have it in him to become a knight of Necrucifer?

The rakish grin he aimed her way put the thought aside and unbidden, she found herself smiling wryly back at him.

For good or ill, she had confided in him.  He knew the depths of her very personal despair and though she hated the word, it was true.  She felt, at times, like she was walking an empty path to a forsaken conclusion.  There would likely be so much of nothing at the end for her, or so her misgivings whispered.

She felt her smile wither as she contemplated the bleakness of trying to accept that so much of what she had dedicated her life to in the last century meant so little to the one person who had mattered most.  There was nothing for it though.  If the ages had taught her anything, it was that change happened and the sands of the hourglass covered everything equally - without concern for the importance that mortals placed on said things.

Her accomplishments and sacrifices were destined to become ash before the drift of time.  Would she have felt this sort of desolation if she were among the Vallenwoods?  It was a foolish query and one that experience reminded her was unnecessary.  Everything ended eventually, even in that forbidden amaranthine realm.  She had experienced the very crux of betrayal in that place.

Turning from the doorway, she made her way to the desk and the bourbon there.  The scent of it was rich as she unstoppered the decanter and poured a glass.  It burned pleasantly as she sipped it and moved off to the window, aware that her guard had moved to prop himself in the doorway.

She could be thankful for the moments between, she allowed.  And for the few strands she had set to the tapestry of Algoron that would go on.  It took an effort but she drew her mind out of the mire while she watched the pacing of the liveried guards outside.

She still had time left, and the path could yet offer something optimistic.

Of Blood, Flesh and Scale

[101] Nymaya: Of Blood, Flesh and Scale
Thu Jun 29 18:57:53 2017
To: All Verminasia Ashtiel Telthian Crelius ( Equinox Cayenna Imm Storyline RP )
The power to be had in flesh and blood was known to her. 

She had scars that had gone deep, that had bled her nearly to death for the ritual of blood, sacrifice and oath dating back as far as she could recall.

She brushed her hand over the scar across her throat, her fingers lingering along the left side and tried to consider her options.  Most of the people she had known were gone.  In many cases, hundreds of years gone.  Her own memories, the ones she needed to draw on, were often so long removed from the moments she was trying to recollect that she felt somewhat unreliable.

She lifted her left hand, wrist up and ran her fingers down the scars that Irisi had left in the wake of ripping the flesh for Queen Philyra, for Fatale.  No one from that age yet lingered and she had barely retained her life.  There was no one left to go to. 

Frowning, she allowed a soft exhale of frustration and brushed her fingers down along the cut on her face.  From temple to chin, it still burned as if recently placed.  It was the only direction she had left to pursue, a constant reminder of what she had achieved and lost.  Of what lingered yet.

"Uvall" She whispered and set her chin to her fist. 

She could feel that link.  In her dreams, in her nightmares, the demon was with her still and might always be.  Her free hand touched to her chest, where the stone had sat - the tie that had bound her to him within the confines of her debt.  It had shattered when she had completed her end of the bargain, but the weight remained. 

Her eyes closed on the remembered sensation and in the darkness there, she fell. 

There should have been blankets, a soft mattress, pillows but there was only the rush of air whistling past her ears, cushioning her body.  Heavy, hellish heat licked along every inch of her and by her ear, the caress of demonic laughter and a familiar feverish pulse.  She knew it as power - his power - and didn't fight it.  She had learned that lesson the hard way. 


The voice was demonic, mockingly intimate, possessed of a grin.  A touch followed, brushing across her cheek and down, to where the stone had sat against her chest.  She felt the oddness of his fingertip, the threatening edge of his nail and the cut along her temple and cheek, down to her chin flared painfully.  The touch lifted and slowly, his long fingers slipped around her throat, his thumb tilting her jaw up.

The next time, your soul will not be denied.   The words were not spoken, they echoed back to her - a memory. 

"It will be if Nagash wrests it first." She dared to breathe.

She swallowed thickly, aware that she was not just playing with fire.  She had stepped into it.  The beat of her heart sounded and she felt heat and rage rise around her.  The pain was alive, as if true flame were searing her nerve endings and on its heels, the chaotic inundation of the Haunt.

A sharp cry heralded wakefulness.  Blood had beaded along the cut again and heat rolled from her bare skin but it was the discordant ebb and flow that had all her attention.  In the dark, illuminated only by a ray of moonlight, she was forced to wrestle it down alone.

It was silence she had to strive for. 

Iagothal: An Old Menace (1/3)

[146] Nymaya: Iagothal: An Old Menace (1/3)
Fri Jun  9 00:57:57 2017
To: All Verminasia ( RP Imm )
The letter she had received had come from a courier of no small import, direct from her Keep in Iagothal.  He'd been a distant relation to the Kayen family as evidenced by his very features, which had expressed the urgency of the matter almost better than the hastily written words in the missive.

             We have cause to believe another has been sighted. 

That was all she had been required to read, she knew what they were alluding to but the rest of the parchment had gone on to detail the strange sightings along the border along with the response of nearby towns and farms. 

Had it not attacked?  The first experience the Kayen forces had had with a similar creature two years previous had lead to an entire patrol's gruesome death.  Why would it linger on the border.  The questions mounted as she packed sparse belongings and set out on horseback with a small contingent of Atennim and Kayen guard.  Though she'd have preferred to travel alone, the threat hanging over her head was too great a risk.  This though, this was something she had dealt with before at least - even if they still did not know what it was or its origin. 

Iagothal province was a few days ride and though the letter had been urgent with its concern, she had determined to make the slower trek.  She was confident in her ability to track it regardless of where it went and the first beast had prompted warnings that were even then being heeded. 

Indulging the illusion of time, she set her sights on the horizon and allowed a modicum of reserved introspection.  She had archives to concern herself with on top of Iagothal's problems.  The immediate ache of her severed finger in that moment easily maintained her focus. 

Iagothal: An Old Menace (2/3)

[154] Nymaya: Iagothal: An Old Menace (2/3)
Mon Jun 19 15:02:37 2017
To: Verminasia ( RP Imm Chaos )
Lightning arced overhead and thunder cracked soon after. 

A few younger, skittish horses pawed the ground or tossed their heads but most sat still and unfazed while their riders watched the surroundings, soaked through and through but hooded and stalwart.  Many of the men wore crests denoting the House of Kayen, some of Atennim, a few were unmarked - like herself - but all of them were focused. 

They all knew they were being hunted.  Watched. 

It was a feeling that tingled up the back, raising the fine hairs at the base of the neck and made one's shoulders itch between the blades.  Not one of them would rest while that feeling lingered. 

She heard it then, between the howl of the wind and the rush of the steady cold torrent pouring out of the clouds - the snap of wings.  It was on the move, but to merely circle or lead them off on a tantalizing trail yet again? 

She ground her teeth, feeling the deprivation of sleep biting at the frayed edges of her patience.  She -knew- it was a beast of similar origin, it had to be.  The outline, the sound of the wings, the sinister feeling it seemed to relay.  Even its choice of prey, which appeared to be primarily humanoid though no remains had been found of those reported missing, seemed on the mark. 

It would not approach though.  In three days of presenting what should have been an irresistible target, it had either circled them widely or lead them off deeper into the province.  This night though, they were back near the border.  The storm had shifted twice; from deep humid mists to dark cold rain and with this last trail, into a growing threat of powerful winds and untamed lightning. 

Speculation ate at her and she glared into the storm even as her head turned slowly, tracing the sound of it - beyond the border?  If so, it was leaving the province, which was just as well but to be sure they'd have to wait until the storm passed. 

More questions arose, adding to those already brought forward previously, but most heavily on her mind was the query that may have mattered most: Is it of Chaos?

Her inability to soothe the concerns, especially of those who resided on Iagothal lands, bothered her to no end but with the trail lost in the storm now all she could do was rally the hunting party and head to safety.

Iagothal: An Old Menace (3/3)

[158] Nymaya: Iagothal: An Old Menace (3/3)
Wed Jun 21 04:10:28 2017
To: Verminasia ( RP Imm Equinox Storyline | Chaos )
Sweat beaded and fell down her lean form as she slid slowly through her sword forms, forcing patience when she felt she had none.  Her mind was cluttered, still in a fog from her fevered state and it was only with a will that she managed to find her center and hold it. 

It was a calm place.  White, empty and through it whispered the Haunt.  It was not as she knew it, the sound, but it was there and like a cool breeze, it lifted through her. 

She heard it again, felt it again and distantly knew it was resonating in her blade.  Each movement was calm, precise now, without force.  It was with latent recognition but she knew it wouldn't last. She held it now though and let it draw her ever deeper. 

From one elven sword form to the next; each emulating a movement, a gesture, an attack, a defense of the bladesinger in a motion both elegant and slow, graceful and lithe. 

She had been at this...for centuries.

The blade clattered to the ground suddenly, the sound not at all right and like the shattering of a crystal, everything about the moment fell apart. 

She was looking out from within, but her control was gone.  There was only the Song and it rose to deafening, chaotic decibels.  It was only, again, with latent awareness that she realized she was in physical pain.  There was a fever in her body, a powerful throb and ache in her severed finger and even as her gaze turned on it she watched the flesh begin to blacken.  The corruption began to move then, almost immediately, veining up through her hand to her wrist. 

Her gasp echoed only pain, there was no surprise and whatever spell held her in thrall broke as she grabbed at her wrist, trying in vain to stop the spread.

...the blackened veining was in her forearm, working up to her elbow when she jerked awake in bed.

Two pained breaths later and she threw back the blankets, aware that she could still feel the remnants of fever in her body, that she had been dreaming. She'd have been gone from Iagothal long before had it not been for that. Frustrated and aching everywhere, especially in her severed limb, she dressed and began packing for the return trip.

With the beast confirmed gone and the archives having failed to offer any further information on Nagash, she had no reason to linger.